I think he’s a young adolescent now. Perhaps thirteen. They were living in a temporary camp, and I believe it was north of the town of Cave Creek, in Arizona. That was several years ago, though. Still, you could compare a map to the lines I remembered before. As always, I’ll tell you if I get anything more.

I sent it off. As soon as it was gone, terror washed through me.

Not Jamie!

Her voice in my head was as clear as my own spoken aloud. I shuddered in horror.

Even as I struggled with the fear of what was happening, I was gripped with the insane desire to e-mail the Seeker again and apologize for sending her my crazy dreams. To tell her I was half asleep and to pay no attention to the silly message I’d sent.

The desire was not my own.

I shut off the computer.

I hate you, the voice snarled in my head.

“Then maybe you should leave,” I snapped. The sound of my voice, answering her aloud, made me shudder again.

She hadn’t spoken to me since the first moments I’d been here. There was no doubt that she was getting stronger. Just like the dreams.

And there was no question about it; I was going to have to visit my Comforter tomorrow. Tears of disappointment and humiliation welled in my eyes at the thought.

I went back to bed, put a pillow over my face, and tried to think of nothing at all.

Hello there, Wanderer! Won’t you take a seat and make yourself at home?”

I hesitated on the threshold of the Comforter’s office, one foot in and one foot out.

She smiled, just a tiny movement at the corners of her mouth. It was much easier to read facial expressions now; the little muscle twitches and shifts had become familiar through months of exposure. I could see that the Comforter found my reluctance a bit amusing. At the same time, I could sense her frustration that I was still uneasy coming to her.

With a quiet sigh of resignation, I walked into the small brightly colored room and took my usual seat-the puffy red one, the one farthest from where she sat.

Her lips pursed.

To avoid her gaze, I stared through the open windows at the clouds scuttling past the sun. The faint tang of ocean brine blew softly through the room.

“So, Wanderer. It’s been a while since you’ve come to see me.”

I met her eyes guiltily. “I did leave a message about that last appointment. I had a student who requested some of my time…”

“Yes, I know.” She smiled the tiny smile again. “I got your message.”

She was attractive for an older woman, as humans went. She’d let her hair stay a natural gray-it was soft, tending toward white rather than silver, and she wore it long, pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes were an interesting green color I’d never seen on anyone else.

“I’m sorry,” I said, since she seemed to be waiting for a response.

“That’s all right. I understand. It’s difficult for you to come here. You wish so much that it wasn’t necessary. It’s never been necessary for you before. This frightens you.”

I stared down at the wooden floor. “Yes, Comforter.”

“I know I’ve asked you to call me Kathy.”

“Yes… Kathy.”

She laughed lightly. “You are not at ease with human names yet, are you, Wanderer?”

“No. To be honest, it seems… like a surrender.”

I looked up to see her nod slowly. “Well, I can understand why you, especially, would feel that way.”

I swallowed loudly when she said that, and stared again at the floor.

“Let’s talk about something easier for a moment,” Kathy suggested. “Do you continue to enjoy your Calling?”

“I do.” This was easier. “I’ve begun a new semester. I wondered if it would get tiresome, repeating the same material, but so far it doesn’t. Having new ears makes the stories new again.”

“I hear good things about you from Curt. He says your class is among the most requested at the university.”

My cheeks warmed a bit at this praise. “That’s nice to hear. How is your partner?”

“Curt is wonderful, thank you. Our hosts are in excellent shape for their ages. We have many years ahead of us, I think.”

I was curious if she would stay on this world, if she would move to another human host when the time came, or if she would leave. But I didn’t want to ask any questions that might move us into the more difficult areas of discussion.

“I enjoy teaching,” I said instead. “It’s somewhat related to my Calling with the See Weeds, so that makes it easier than something unfamiliar. I’m indebted to Curt for requesting me.”

“They’re lucky to have you.” Kathy smiled warmly. “Do you know how rare it is for a Professor of History to have experienced even two planets in the curriculum? Yet you’ve lived a term on almost all of them. And the Origin, to boot! There isn’t a school on this planet that wouldn’t love to steal you away from us. Curt plots ways to keep you busy so you have no time to consider moving.”

“Honorary Professor,” I corrected her.

Kathy smiled and then took a deep breath, her smile fading. “You haven’t been to see me in so long, I was wondering if your problems were resolving themselves. But then it occurred to me that perhaps the reason for your absence was that they were getting worse.”

I stared down at my hands and said nothing.

My hands were light brown-a tan that never faded whether I spent time in the sun or not. One dark freckle marked the skin just above my left wrist. My nails were cut short. I disliked the feeling of long nails. They were unpleasant when they brushed the skin wrong. And my fingers were so long and thin-the added length of fingernails made them look strange. Even for a human.

She cleared her throat after a minute. “I’m guessing my intuition was right.”

“Kathy.” I said her name slowly. Stalling. “Why did you keep your human name? Did it make you feel… more at one? With your host, I mean?” I would have liked to know about Curt’s choice as well, but it was such a personal question. It would have been wrong to ask anyone besides Curt for the answer, even his partner. I worried that I’d already been too impolite, but she laughed.

“Heavens, no, Wanderer. Haven’t I told you this? Hmm. Maybe not, since it’s not my job to talk, but to listen. Most of the souls I speak with don’t need as much encouragement as you do. Did you know I came to Earth in one of the very first placements, before the humans had any idea we were here? I had human neighbors on both sides. Curt and I had to pretend to be our hosts for several years. Even after we’d settled the immediate area, you never knew when a human might be near. So Kathy just became who I was. Besides, the translation of my former name was fourteen words long and did not shorten prettily.” She grinned. The sunlight slanting through the window caught her eyes and sent their silver green reflection dancing on the wall. For a moment, the emerald irises glowed iridescent.

I’d had no idea that this soft, cozy woman had been a part of the front line. It took me a minute to process that. I stared at her, surprised and suddenly more respectful. I’d never taken Comforters very seriously-never had a need before now. They were for those who struggled, for the weak, and it shamed me to be here. Knowing Kathy’s history made me feel slightly less awkward with her. She understood strength.

“Did it bother you?” I asked. “Pretending to be one of them?”

“No, not really. You see, this host was a lot to get used to-there was so much that was new. Sensory overload. Following the set pattern was quite as much as I could handle at first.”

“And Curt… You chose to stay with your host’s spouse? After it was over?”

This question was more pointed, and Kathy grasped that at once. She shifted in her seat, pulling her legs up and folding them under her. She gazed thoughtfully at a spot just over my head as she answered.